


• Twatwaffles •

by ShesGoneRogue



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 13:18:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17529455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShesGoneRogue/pseuds/ShesGoneRogue
Summary: Armie pays Timmy a post Oscar noms surprise visit.





	• Twatwaffles •

**Author's Note:**

> Short and rough unbeta'd cuddles.  
> This started as something completely different, but I guess I needed the comfort as much as Tim did.

"What are you doing?" Timmy laughs and looks down at him with surprised confusion as he tugs at Armie's hair, tyring half-heartedly to pull his face away from his belly.

Armie's grip is firm on his bony hips, pressing him back against the front door of his apartment. He had immediately dropped his duffle and taken Tim in his arms for a long, deep kiss before sliding to his knees and pushing him back up against it to just hold him in place and nuzzle him. He looks up into Tim's still flushed face and tenses a little at the tug on his roots. "Distracting you?" he asks hopefully.

Tim, still laughing, shakes his head. "Distracting me from what?"

"Whatever you need to be distracted from..." he shrugs. He purposely doesn't mention the news from that morning...it would be unkind. He knows Tim is devastated, but he's doing his best not to show it and Armie isn't willing to probe the wound directly. He came here to comfort, not to pry.

Tim's face falls a little and he loosens his grip as his gaze drifts away. "I'm fine, Armie. You didn't have to fly out to my rescue."

Armie takes advantage of the freedom to move his head again and buries it in the shallow valley next to Tim's hip bone. "But I missed you." His words are muffled and whiney against the fabric of Tim's sweater. He snuffles there, breathing in his scent and opening his mouth to drink in his warmth. "Did you miss me?"

"You know I did." It sounds a little flat to Armie's ears, but Tim's hand is back in his hair, soothing, petting. "How did you manage to pull this off?"

"Meetings." He doesn't bother pulling his face away, too far gone in the relief of being swept up in the feel of Tim's body once again.

Tim snorts a short laugh.

Armie glances up at him. "Well, it's not a _lie._  I'm meeting with _you_."

"And I'm guessing you conveniently omitted that bit of info?"

Armie's hands slide up Tim's sides beneath the oversized t-shirt and the thick sweater. His skin is so warm and smooth. "Does it matter?" He asks, his tone slightly challenging. He didn't come here to fight, but he's ready for it if Tim is looking for somewhere to channel his frustrations.

Tim holds his gaze for a long moment before answering...long enough for Armie to see his eyes change from guarded to defeated. "No...no, it doesn't matter. I'm glad you're here." he says softly.

Armie nestles his face lower this time, arms slowly coiling around and up his back until his head is swimming with 'Timmy' again. His scent. His heat. The texture of his skin. The firmness of his...

"You _did_ miss me." he can't hide the grin winding around his words.

"Shut up, asshole. Your mouth is two inches from my cock. What did you expect?" He laughs as he drops his hands to Armie's shoulders and shoves him back a little.

Armie nips at his lower belly and starts to slide his mouth lower.

"Hey- hey! Whoa. You just got here, man. Can we take a second?" He tightens his grip on Armie's shoulders, bony fingers digging in.

"Yeah. Sure." Armie backs off and pushes up. "Whatever you want."

Timmy sighs, "Dude. Don't be like that." but Armie is already shuffling away to retrieve his bag.

"No, it's okay." he shrugs, "I probably reek anyway. Airports, you know." He hoists his bag up on the kitchenette bar and pretends to rummage around for something to hide the hurt that must be all over his face. Within seconds he feels Tim's arms come around his waist, his chest and head pressed against his back.

"You could never reek. You smell like home." he sighs again. "I'm sorry. I'm just all over the place right now, but I'm really glad you're here."

Armie turns slowly in the circle of Tim's arms to embrace him. He pulls him close and bends down to press his mouth to the top of his head. "What do you need, baby?" he asks softly, gently swaying with him.

Tim tenses, his hands grabbing at handfuls of Armie's sweatshirt. "Would you belive me if I said I don't even know? I didn't sleep last night and was just about to go take a nap when you knocked because I don't even want to be around myself right now...it's the only thing I can think of to...not think." He shifts and looks up at Armie with eyes just this side of tearing up.

"Then let's take a nap." he says gently, cupping the side of his face, one thumb tracing his cheekbone.

Tim just nods and turns towards his bedroom without another word. 

Armie's heart clenches at his defeated posture. He's in just as bad a shape as he imagined he would be. _Fucking Academy bastards_. He has to squeeze his eyes shut and shove his anger down before he can follow.

When he comes into the bedroom, Tim has already climbed under the covers, fully clothed, and turned his back to the door. Armie strips off his sweatshirt and kicks off his shoes before settling in. He gives it all of two seconds before spooning Tim close to him and squeezing him tight.

Tim's shoulders start shaking almost immediately.

"Tim....oh baby..." He holds him tighter as the sobs come, rocking him gently and letting him cry it out.

When he's finally spent and the sobs have died to hiccups, Tim rotates in his arms and hides his face against Armie's neck. "I'm sorry. I never wanted you to see me like this."

Armie coughs a humorless chuckle. "You're handling it a lot better than I did."

"You didn't see me earlier." Tim grumbles bitterly.

Armie smiles sadly, remembering his own disappointment and how Tim talked him down. He kisses his forehead and whispers softly, "I can handle whatever you've got, kid. Lay it on me."

Tim is quiet for a minute, his fingers working restlessly at the cotton of Armie's undershirt. Armie waits him out, one hand massaging the back of his neck.

Finally, so quietly that Armie has to strain to hear the first part, "I didn't even realize how bad I wanted it. That high, you know? Last year was such a shock...and..." he sniffs, "I guess I let all the talk get into my head." He lifts his head quickly and looks at Armie directly with red-rimmed eyes. "I mean, I didn't _expect_ it or anything, but I hoped, you know?"

Armie just nods and brushes a curl away from his temple.

Tim settles back down. "It's stupid. Just a fucking statue."

Armie nods at the ceiling, his brow furrowing as he thinks about the pointlessness of it all. "And a stuffy dinner. Uncomfortable tux. Obnoxious photographers. Watered down booze. Obligatory applause, badly written jokes..." he trails off.

Tim sniffs and sighs. "Yeah, but mamma would have been proud. She already has a designated spot."

"Oh, Tim..." Armie groans and squeezes him tight. "Your mom is already proud. _Everyone_ is. Especially me. I know how hard you worked. You busted your ass for that movie. Bled for it. I was _there_." He kisses his head again and shuts his eyes against the tears that well up as he remembers counting Tim's ribs one night when he heaved over the toilet because his body couldn't handle the pasta meal he ate to celebrate at the end of filming. "You're so amazing, Tim. You don't need an ancient board of Geritol popping pedantic twatwaffles with sticks up their asses to prove—"

Tim's body starts shaking again, alarming Armie and cutting off his speech. He starts to grip him tighter and braces for another bout of sobs, but Tim rolls off him in a fit of hysterical laughter. 

Armie sits upright in alarm, not quite sure what to do. Tim's face is bright red and it's hard to tell if he's laughing or crying or...both?

"Tw---twatwaf—!?" he bleats and slaps the mattress, rolling into bouts of silent choking laughter for a solid minute as Armie watches him, completely befuddled.

He reaches out to touch his shoulder tentatively with one hand, but Tim takes one look at his face and sets off again.

Armie rolls his eyes and pulls his hand back, folding his arms with patient smile and waiting like the tolerant father of a tantrum throwing toddler for Tim to regain his composure.

Tim's laughter finally peters out to random giggles as he flings his limbs out like a starfish, gasping to catch his breath. "You can't— you can't give me a heartfelt pep talk and just throw 'twatwaffle' in there, Armie." He wipes at his eyes and sits up.

Armie shrugs. "It's true." He still doesn't get how that set Tim off. He must be more tense than he thought for _that_ to be his breaking point.

Tim suddenly sits up and tackles him, all arms and legs and knobby joints knocking the wind from him and shoving him back to the mattress.

Dark curls frame bright eyes and a genuine smile as he hovers just inches from Armie's face.

"I love you."

"And I love you, but what brought this on?"

Tim leans down and kisses him with a resounding wet smack. "I'm just so glad you're here. You always seem to know."

Armie scrunches his brow in confusion. "Know what?"

Tim sits back on Armie's hips and plucks at the hem his shirt with fidgety fingers, his cheeks still pink from laughing. "You knew I needed you, even if I didn't. You knew I'd be sad, and you made me laugh. You always know." he gives a self conscious little half shrug.

Armie grins up at him and opens his arms for Tim to lay back down against him. "You know I'm always here for you, Tim. No matter what." he murmurs into his curls as he settles back down.

Tim makes a little groan of contentment. "Will you rub my back?"

"Of course."

Tim sits up again and strips off his t-shirt and sweater in one go before snuggling back down against Armie's warmth.

Armie immediately starts kneading the tense muscles of his lower back and traces his spine with gentle fingertips.

" _Mm_...how long can you stay?"

"Coupla days."

"Good." He already sounds like he's drifting.

"Still want to nap?"

Tim nods against him. "And pizza. I want pizza."

"Then we'll have pizza, baby. Extra cheese just like you like it."

He gets only a soft snore in answer.


End file.
